Category: Uncategorized

my nea story, journalist impersonators, oswald photog story

Interesting, if a little too self-serving, story in Sunday’s paper. JFK fetishists, among others, should enjoy it.
Scary reporter impersonator. I wonder why the Chronicle waits until the 50th paragraph to reveal who the bad guy is. (Actually, I know why — its covering its ass — but still strikes me as a bad decision, tinging an otherwise terrific story.)
Here’s my story in today’s paper. A pretty interesting topic, a nothing-special story.

chanda and anna win again, rangers game

My, Chanda’s on fire! And she’s even dragging Kournikova’s sorry (though attractive) ass with her! Unseeded Chanda and Anna upset the 7th seed in doubles, setting them up against the dreaded Taiwanese/Indonesian duo of Lee/Prakyusa next.
Spent last night having a very nice time out at The Ballpark (where the ironwork is deeply un-Cajun and really not all that New Orleans in style, which is no doubt what yesterday’s writer really meant). My friend said she wanted to beat traffic out, so we logically left in the top of the 9th, which of course meant missing two home runs. C’est la vie. (Gerry Fraley, the DMN’s great baseball beat writer, has had so much fun this season dissing Chan Ho Park, last night’s losing pitcher. “Chan Ho Park, the Rangers’ ace only on payday…”

baba o’riley quote, shakespeare in the park with natacha

Teenage wasteland! It’s only teeeeenage waaaasteland! Teenage wasteland! Oh, yeah — teeeeenage waaaasteland They’re all wasted!
Sorry — it’s a Who-quoting kind of day. (Not that kind of Who.)
Had a wonderful time at Shakespeare in the Park last night with Natacha. The Two Gentlemen of Verona was marred only by poor microphone placement and a group of annoying middle-aged, middle-management, golf-shirt-wearing fools behind us who decided to get drunk on chardonnay (ooh, they’re cultured) and be loud jackasses throughout the performance. It’s amazing how a little alcohol can reduce boring old fogies to annoying 14-year-olds. Ah, the fountain of youth.
Anyway, just have to finish a story today, then it’s off to nice seats at The Ballpark to see the Rangers battle for the Silver Boot. (It’s good to know season ticket holders.)

chanda wins again, faces serena

The upsets keep on coming: Chanda whoops up on the 21st seed, the allegedly chunky Tatiana Panova, 6-4, 6-1. I’m going to be bold and say I think she’ll actually give Serena a good game in the next round. Serena’s been having a weak tournament, and she’s as ripe for the picking as she’s likely to ever be. Rock on, Chanda! Win one for John Entwistle!

porn n chicken

For everyone who followed the Porn ‘n’ Chicken saga at my alma mater, it appears the first Ivy League porn movie will finally get made — only at Columbia instead of Yale.
And in case you’re the kind of person who doesn’t read a story’s byline — shame on you! — you may wish to check into the author of this piece. Ms. Hancock, herself a Yalie and a former writer at my old college paper, has her own quasi-porn experience. (Photos here.) And she’s even from Texas!

john entwistle dies

The greatest bassist in rock and roll history, John Entwistle, is dead at 57. I was a big Who fan growing up, and Who’s Next survived my general abandonment of classic rock to remain a favorite. It always sounded as if there were at least two sets of hands on the fretboard when he played; with him on bass and Keith Moon on drums, you had the greatest rhythm section of modern recorded music.
I remember in junior high playing the classic boys game, Supergroup, where you picked the best rock stars on each of the major instruments and imagined what they’d sound like together. The guitar player would vary quite a bit (most often Hendrix or Jimmy Page, but occasionally ill-advised thoughts like Ritchie Blackmore), and the drummer was usually a tossup between Moon and John Bonham. But the bass player was always John Entwistle.